Anthologies of the Gulf
by 27000ants
Summary: In the days before the final grand battle, the girls are getting jittery. Some have epiphanies, some face their inner demons, others find a new sense of purpose in their existence...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Survivor

The morning was overcast, a normal occurrence during the monsoon season. What was not normal was the somber mood around the forward base. High Command had released the operational details to the units involved a few months ago, following which the hectic preparations ensued. Convoy frequencies were increased, resources stockpiled, training intensified, rigging thoroughly overhauled, and a few pieces of new tech fresh from Yuubari and Akashi were thrown in. All this led up to what was dubbed "The Final Grand Battle". Up until a week ago this was the life at the base, until the Admiral himself called for a cessation of all non-critical duties, a tradition he brought with him on his posting.

"Take this time off to clear your mind, do whatever you want, so that we can all enter battle with no distractions or regrets" were the exact words he used.

For Shigure however, this calm before the storm does nothing to dissipate the raging whirlwind in her heart. Everything about this operation irked her to a degree she never thought possible since she was assigned here 14 months ago. The thought of having to liberate the Philippines gave her palpitations, her assignment to run the Surigao Strait made her shudder, the plan of a post-breach rendezvous with the main fleet made her reel. But the greatest hit to her were the other fleet members assigned to the same operation: Fusou, Yamashiro, Mogami, Michishio, Asagumo, and Yamagumo.

All girls were reborn with their memories of the war and naval history. For Shigure, it was a feeling of vague hope marred by the onset of despair and desperation as the tides of war turned, with a deep undertone of loss and helplessness that festered as each of her comrades and sisters fell around her. In this new life she sought to drown out her sorrows in the din of combat, vowing to be the very best so that no one else would fall on her watch. She became good, very good, too good…

She tried reasoning with the Admiral, begging even, to stop the Nishimura 7 from going back into that tomb in which their old bodies still lie. Only a sincere apology was available, for the directive had come from High Command, and the Admiral's hands were tied regarding this matter.

"Your exceptional skills were noted back in the Homeland, and they decided that you should be the one to spearhead this push through the strait. The others with you were the only ones I was able to scrounge up from the base roster. How unfortunate fate this is. Do your best, as you always have done, and I believe everyone will be back safely. But as an apology, I have requested for more air cover from High Command, and I trust they will deliver, as much as I trust in you."

Shigure sat on the pier, facing east at where the sun would rise in a few minutes. She had been doing this for the past 6 days, hoping to catch what may be her final sunrise, but in the squalls and showers of the monsoon season the sun's warming first light eluded her. Now was her last chance before the sorties began, and she really wished for that one literal glimmer of hope.

It had begun to drizzle, not unexpectedly. Shigure closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. Motionless, she sat, until a faint trumpet was heard in the distance. The flag was being raised. Out of protocol, she stood up and turned to face it. But rising slowly on the main mast was not the state flag or the naval ensign. From where she was she could see only 4 colors: black, yellow, red, and blue – The Zulu flag. All were reborn knowing the significance of that ensign.

"The fate of the Empire rests on the outcome of this battle. Let each man do his utmost" she found herself silently mouthing. It became clear to her: her fate is to change fate. No one will be lost at Surigao under her watch. As the flag reached the top of the mast she felt a warm sensation on her back. Turning, she saw the clouds on the distant horizon have parted, in time to let in the first rays of sunlight in.

"There's no rain that does not end", she muttered with tears welling up in her eyes and a determination welling up in her heart. If the Surigao Strait was hell on Earth, it would be nothing compared to what she will raise…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Redemption

Michishio was alone in the Admiral's office. Today was her turn to tidy up the desk and stow loose documents. Simple task, it was – gather the papers neatly into a pile, sorting by urgency and then date. She flipped through the pile in her hand, checking that the dates are in running order to make sure no task stayed at the bottom of the pile for too long. Among the many intelligence reports and resource ledgers, 2 documents, both received on the same day 2 weeks ago just hours apart caught her eye. The first one carried the header: "Final list of operationally ready ships", and the other one titled "RE: Final list of operationally ready ships – Corrected". Curious, she gave both a quick flip through. She found no discrepancies at first glance.

"Hmm, looks like Shigure wasn't able to convince that man to make any changes" she said with some contempt. But something wasn't right. There would be no reason why High Command would make changes to a document so quickly, unless the Admiral spotted a mistake himself and asked for a second look. She scanned both documents, holding them side by side to compare individual words. After 5 minutes she found 1 discrepancy. It was in the destroyer roster. It was her.

It was one simple change. Michishio Kai Ni was changed to Michishio Kai.

She stood motionless, distraught. A Kai Ni remodel is unique to each ship, difficult to develop, expensive to implement, but the highest honor to any who are fortunate enough to receive one. When Shigure and Yuudachi got theirs, their combat performance improved by leaps and bounds. Same applied to the Fusou sisters. And Nagato, the pride of the fleet, the first of the Big 7, became an absolute beast. To have the promise of unfathomable firepower dangled in front of her, and then taken away right when she needed it most felt like a slap to the face, or at best some kind of sick joke.

Her legs collapsed out from under her as she slumped onto the ground, clutching the stack of papers, crumpling them where her hands gripped them. "Why did I get assigned to such a fleet?", she forced out as the first tears dripped onto the pile…

The Admiral opened the door to his office to find papers strewn all over the floor, and on top of them was a balled-up and sobbing Michishio. "Maybe having you tidy the place up these few days was a bad idea. I can explain everything, you just need to listen to…"

"W-w-why should I l-l-listen t-t-to you?" she forced out between sobs.

The Admiral sat down beside her, putting a hand reassuringly on her head. "You don't. Instead, listen to Shigure, Fusou, Yamashiro, or any of the other girls who have had theirs. The power jump they had rendered them combat-ineffective for weeks, months in the case of Nagato, as they came to terms with their new-found strength. It was only when they got used to their abilities that they could function without being a hazard to themselves and those they love. This may sound like something from a comic book, but with the great power of a K2 comes great responsibility. If your K2 were ready a month earlier I would have given it to you in a heartbeat, but right now I really need all of you for this operation. I have full faith in your current abilities, and you should have some faith in yourself too. But for now, I will take my leave. You can rest here as long has you need to."

With that, he stood up to attend his other business around the base. Michishio lay still, no longer sobbing. With a weak smile, she mumbled: "So annoying…"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Sins of past lives

The last day of the calm before the storm. Yamashiro was up earlier than normal today – everyone was. The grand decisive battle was upon them, and no one was really themselves anymore.

Like Yamashiro. Her thoughts dwell for the first time on not just Fusou-nee, but on the purpose of their existence. Thoughts raced in her head as she made her way from the dorms to the cafeteria. She knows they were made to fight a mysterious enemy that arose from the seas and subjugated the Americas, on top of limiting all human seafaring to within sight of a coastline a decade ago, and that the upcoming liberation of the Philippines was vital on many levels. Tactically, it would be the first major transoceanic landing operation. Strategically, the Philippines would serve as a staging ground for future trans-pacific operations. And for humanity, this would be a rallying call to rise up against the scourge, together.

"The pride of the fleet rides on the operation, as well as its future. If we loose, what will happen to the fleet. We may be disbanded. I may be split from nee-sama. I don't wanna be split from nee-sama. But what if nee-sama sinks? I will never let that happen to nee-sama agai…"

The blast from a trumpet broke her chain of thought. The flag was being raised. She turned to it and stood at attention out of protocol.

"Strange. Why is the Zulu flag being raised instead of the state flag? That man probably wants to raise morale – as if that helps," thought Yamashiro as the ensign rose slowly. She pivoted on her right foot to continue on to get breakfast as soon as the flag reached the top of the mast when she saw someone standing on the pier. The black uniform with white lapels and sleeves, plus long black hair tied in a braid made her identity clear: it was Shigure.

"Shigure, what are you doing there? Come. Let's have breakfast," Yamashiro called out. Shigure stood there, unmoving.

"Geez," Yamashiro thought to herself as she went up to the pier. She grabbed Shigure and spun her around to face her. "Shigure, come on; I heard breakfast's pretty good…"

Again, her chain of thought was broken, but this time by the sight of a tear rolling down Shigure's cheek. Her eyes, puffy and unfocused.

"Yamashiro… I promise… we will make it through the strait… we will make it to Leyte… we will meet the Kurita fleet, together…"

"Calm down; snap out of it," shouted Yamashiro as she shook Shigure out of her trance. Shigure's eyes finally focused on Yamashiro's as she burst into tears.

"Yamashiro-san, I'm sorry, I didn't know what came over me. I only wanted to watch the sunrise, then I saw the flag and the memories came back to me. I want to get everyone out of there. It will not be like Guadalcanal, Vella Gulf, or Leyte Gulf, where I stood helpless as those I loved sank. In this new life I can change fate. No one will be abandoned, not under me…"

"Shigure, now you understand what I feel towards Fusou-nee. I also left her behind that night – we both did. We pushed forwards in the name of duty, but it was wrong. I never forgave myself for that…"

Shigure looked Yamashiro in the eyes to see her normally cold glare replaced with something – something she only ever showed to Fusou. A warmth, a compassion, one with a faint yet undeniable undertone of melancholy, a sign of epiphany of fates shared. Between her and Fusou, it was sinking together that night, and between her and Shigure, it was one of love, loss, and abandonment in the name of duty. Shigure tightened the embrace as she pushses her face into Yamashiro's bosom, and in this embrace they stood motionless under the warmth of the rising sun.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Retribution

No one who knew Yamagumo would have recognized her now. Not with the disappearance of her normally laid-back attitude; not with her actually attending briefings herself instead of sending Asagumo in her stead; and not with the cool-looking overcoat that was issued to the Surigao Strait striking force. And today, the day before the offensive begins, Yamagumo was at the workshop to give her rigging a final check after breakfast, mostly to ease her nerves.

Yamagumo herself is unsure what the catalyst for the change really was. It may have been during the initial operations brief months ago, but remembering how everyone, herself included, were simply despondent for about a week after that, she shrugs off the possibility that something just connected in her head during the brief. It may have been Haruna, who sprang back on the day itself and tried to improve morale with her standard, if not overused, "everything will be alright" rhetoric. Eventually though preparations began in earnest, although the specter of fate-relived hung ominously over the base.

"Now why is she always so chipper? It is no secret she is the Admiral's favorite," Yamagumo let her mind wander as she subconsciously went through the motions of the check. There was no chance of missing anything though – it had become second-nature by now, and Yamagumo could feel if the metal had tarnished or corroded, of if there was anything amiss, and she had given the equipment a thorough check the day before anyway.

Fragments of the brief trickled into her thoughts. Reports of PT-imps seen in maneuvers, abyssal carrier task forces amassing in the Philippine sea, and increased screening around abyssal convoys. Instructions stating that the fleet was to sortie through the night to rendezvous at Leyte by morning. Rumors of both sides cracking each other's comms (why else were abyssal strike groups congregating in a sector they secured a decade ago, Yamagumo thought) amongst whispers of a new wave of abyssal offensives that the liberation of the Philippines is meant to thwart. These ideas danced in her head, and tip-tap of their footsteps in the ballroom of her skull soon produced a throbbing headache.

She put her equipment down to take a break and a cup of water. In the stifling stuffiness of the workshop she was grateful that the Admiral had water coolers (top-end ones, at that) installed in most communal buildings and ensured that each one of them worked on a regular basis. She drank most of the cup and let the last bit of ice-cold trickle over her forehead to soothe the pounding – it helped, at the very least.

"Hmm, I wonder if the seafloor is this cold." Yamagumo remembers the pain of her sinking, her last coherent memory just before she slid into the depths and hopes sarcastically that the cold will numb the pain. But of course, she knows that the Nishimura fleet would have the upper hand this time. 3 months of training and who knows how long was spent planning should have prepared them for any form and series of engagement, and in her own skill and that of the fleet she places her trust.

She looks back at her equipment with a light smirk and sat down beside it. Despite her fear of night battles generally overcome in training, some apprehension remains. But her squad needs her as much as she needs them, and for the sake of duty she must, no, she will deliver.

With one hand caressing with the radar on the mainmast of her rigging, she crumpled the paper cup slowly with her other hand and broadened her smirk.

"I guess I need to get a biiit more serious", she mutters with an air of defiance. The night will be won, if not for humanity, but for the fleet, for her sisters, and for all of those she loves.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Everything will be all right

"Are you sure you are feeling fine?" I asked Haruna as we were gathering documents scattered around my office floor.

"Yes, Admiral, Haruna is alright!" She responded, showing her dearest admiral her brightest smile, or at least, the brightest smile she could muster. The dark circles under her eyes weren't hiding themselves.

I responded with a weak smile. "Haruna, you were posted to the base the same time I was and have been by my side ever since. I only wish you could be more honest to yourself. I know you are worried for your sisters especially; I am too, and I understand that there is little I can say to put your fears to rest, so why don't we just… talk…"

"Haruna just wants to know, who responsible for fleet planning? Why do our order of battles mirror those used all those years ago? What kind of plan involves making the fleet relive their greatest failures in their past lives?" There was a rising anger in her voice, as if the lid on resentment long-bottled had been removed.

"Haruna, can you keep a secret?"

"Y…y…yes?"

"9 months ago there was an abyssal task force centered around 2 battleships that sortied north from Singapore. The only ships able to respond immediately were Mogami, Mikuma, Suzuya, and Kumano."

"The historical Seventh Cruiser Division," Haruna muttered subconsciously.

"Yes. What normally took a combined fleet centered on both members of the Big 7 fighting under strong air support was done with just 4 cruisers. What's more, CruDiv7 got away without a scratch, and took advantage of the tactical situation to shell installations on the Malayan peninsular. And to top it all off abyssal presence in the region decreased significantly, so much so that the combined armies of Southeast Asia were able to purge all abyssal presence on the entire peninsular south of Kra with only light support. High Command thought it was just a coincidence, but at the same time the Germans were reporting that Bismarck and Prinz Eugen turned a scouting sortie through the Denmark Strait into a week-long killing spree. Meanwhile Warspite, supporting a squadron of destroyers, razed an abyssal enclave so thoroughly that the Norwegian coastline was declared habitable thereafter."

"So…"

"Yes. I was the one who raised the proposal to High Command. I suggested operations around the Solomon Islands to allow us to springboard to Australia and relieve the Sydney bastion, but High Command wanted something grander. They wanted to make a statement to the rest of the world that humanity has regained the upper hand in the war. The liberation of the Philippines has strategic and PR value in that it is a springboard for future pacific operations and that Filipino refugees outnumber Australian refugees."

There was silence after I finished the sentence. Haruna just sat there, quivering ever so slightly. Suddenly she grabbed my lapels and pulled my face close to hers.

"Are…are we just tools to all of you," she asked, her eyes already watering. "Do our feelings not matter? Why did you approve…" was all she got out before the sobbing overtook her.

I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace, letting her rest against my shoulder. "I suggested the Solomons because it would have been easier to face your inner demons through reliving the pyrrhic victories first, before moving on to outright defeats. I detailed my reasons as such in my initial report, but it seems to have been overlooked. As for why I did not veto the order, I was afraid I would be relieved of my command; and lose you. Call me selfish, call me shitty, call me whatever for causing so much grief, but I refuse to be separated from this fleet; from this family."

I paused for a while to collect my thoughts. "From my posting I saw the fleet rise from strength to strength and have faith you will all pull through. Leyte, Solomons, wherever the war needs us, we will enter the battle together, and together we will come home."

I started to feel something wet roll down my own cheek. Again, a pregnant pause. The sobbing died down.

"Haruna…Haruna understands why you kept this a secret, and Haruna forgives you on the behalf of the fleet. Haruna just wishes that we knew why earlier."

"I did not want to tell all of you the truth, because I did not want the fleet to dwell on the thought of facing the specter of their combined pasts. You would have all figured it out sooner or later, it is just unfortunate that Leyte let the cat out of the bag."

"Silly Admiral. You should be more honest with yourself too," Haruna said, forcing a smile, as she lifted her head to let her eyes meet mine. "Haruna hopes the war would be over soon, and as long as this new strategy works, Haruna will be alright."

Again, she pulled my face close to hers, and I did not resist as our lips touched. I understand death flags were rising around us, but it didn't matter to us, because we chose to enjoy the moment.

And if Haruna thinks it is alright, then she will make sure everyone is alright.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: On the other side

"Kaga, how do you think the rest of the fleet is doing?"

"Akagi, what do you mean? I'm sure they are having no problems with their final preparations for their sortie tomorrow," replied Kaga in her usual calm demeanor.

"Yes, that, I have full confidence in, but…" Akagi let her voice trail off with the rest of the sentence lost in thought. It wasn't normal for her chain of thought to derail so quickly, but then again it wasn't normal for her to not be in the thick of preparation for an upcoming operation. The elite carriers of the First Carrier Division were to assist only in flank screening, and as such their preparation was finished weeks in advance.

Learning that they would not be playing a major role in the liberation of the Philippines months ago was a surreal experience. It would be inaccurate to say they were disappointed to not be chosen, but they weren't relieved either. Emotions were square dancing in Akagi's mind as she weighed the decision. Natural self-preservation instincts mingled with the desire for successful campaign, while her ego wanted her to live up to the name of the First Carrier Division.

She wanted to know why High Command did not want to send their best into this operation and had been pestering Haruna for information since.

"Haruna does not know either. The Admiral had remained tight lipped about this in particular, but Haruna trusts his judgement, and you should too," was the standard answer.

A week ago, when the calm before the storm was called, she asked decided to escalate the matter and ask the Admiral himself.

"Haruna has asked me on your behalf a few times before, and as much as I want to you especially understand why the offensive was planned as such, I am under orders to keep any strategic information under wraps until it is over. However, I am free to discuss tactics if you like."

"Okay then, I was looking at the order of battle, and they mirror the Battle of Leyte Gulf down to a T. Everything does. We had Nachi, Ashigara, and Ooyodo transferred to a northern base a few weeks ago while Yamato and gang arrived just yesterday and are scheduled to push off when the operation begins. Why couldn't the task forces be assigned differently to simplify the logistics. We are scheduled to meet up off the coast of Samar anyway…"

"Akagi, let me top me cut you off right there. In most cases, OrdBat discussions are tactical in nature, but in this case I was instructed to treat this as strategic planning, and I apologize that I cannot share more. However, I know you are a smart girl, and I think what I just said should give you enough information to reach the epiphany you want."

Akagi's hands balled up into tight fists as he spoke. Her teeth clenched as her body stiffened up. His calm demeanor and vacant expression towards a topic of which lives including her own hung in the balance offended her. She had been at the base longer than he was and felt she should be privy to more information. But out of respect to the man who has been generally competent and shown more regard to the girls' wellbeing than the previous admiral, she stood silent in the room for a moment, shot him an angry glare, before storming out.

It took Kaga to entice her out of the mess hall later that day after she went on an ice-cream binge the likes of which has never seen before.

Her rage cooled of over the week, and now she and Kaga sat in their room, making light conversation after dinner. Of course, the conversation died, with Akagi too deep in thought to continue.

Kaga spoke up: "You know, after that incident last week I asked Haruna to update me with any information she happened to come across, and I received a message as we were walking back here. It came with a promise to not spread the information any further, or at least not to tell those that will be in the thick of action over the next weeks."

"Never mind that; they will have sortied by the time we wake up. Just tell me," Akagi zealously spat out.

At that, Kaga read the text message out. Akagi's eyes, once wide in anticipation, slowly narrowed as she processed the information. It was a while after Kaga finished when she finally spoke.

"Facing our inner demons is the key to peace? Sounds like some plot from an anime."

"And funnily enough we will be facing ours too. It has dawned on you hasn't it?"

"It just did. The original 1CarDiv was lost at Midway. We weren't at Leyte then, and our involvement now may compromise the operation, as contradictory as it might seem. To swallow our pride by sitting out an operation of this magnitude, however…"

"Honestly Akagi, I'm surprised you did not realize this earlier. Being named after a volcano does not mean you shouldn't cool down to think things through."

Akagi just smirked in response.

 **AN: I'm just sad this took too long**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Across the Pacific

It's the same shit day-in, day-out. The destroyers did their patrol runs, the heavy cruisers were on stand-by to repel any recon raids, and the capital ships were ready to mobilize at a moment's notice. In the meantime the off-duty personnel fashioned lawn chairs from whatever spare material was at hand. Who could resist a day at the beach? A tenuous existence, but an acceptable one. Many would kill to be based on a tropical pacific island.

Many were killed defending said island, to no avail.

Palau fell in the second wave of the invasion. The first wave razed the coastlines of the Americas and brought the Philippines firmly under Abyssal control. The remaining forces in the Pacific formed a defensive network, named the Rim of Fire. Palau was supposed to have been the key to the counter-offensive. A combined south-east Asian fleet sortieing from Palau was to act as a decoy to draw the abyssal fleet into battle to be destroyed by the US 7th Fleet and the JMSDF before swinging east towards America.

If only it were that easy.

The second wave severed the tenuous link between Australia and the rest of Eurasia a year later. It was launched on the eve of the offensive's execution. For a month fortress Palau stood, the forces cut off from supply lines and communications sporadic trying to break out back to the safety of Australia. What little radio signals were received painted a sordid picture as the fleet became increasingly battered and desperate. "RSS Independence picking up survivors from KRI Usman-Harun, insufficient fuel to reach Darwin, will fight to the last man, remember us" was the last transmission that got through, but as far as it was known, the transmission was the only thing that went through the blockade.

Of all the things to think about off-duty, Escort Water Princess 73 was wondering why this crossed her mind. She arose from the birthing pools off Vancouver long after the subjugation of the Americas and the fall of Palau. Knowledge of history before her "birth" was innate to her, from the story of her people, a parallel race that long sought parity with humans, to first contact just east of Florida in December 1945. To put bluntly, that failed spectacularly with navy sending in bombers, which were cleanly shot down. Secret negotiations continued over decades, but with ties souring her kind made an ultimatum: Secede certain portions of coastline and there will be no bloodshed. Or else.

The humans did not accept the terms, but what wasn't expected was them using a nuke to deliver the message. With their hand forced, her kind amassed an army to take the Americas – take out the biggest guy first, as those humans say.

These memories ended a few months after the fall of Palau when she was born. Everything she knew past that point came from her keeping up to date with intelligence reports, ranging from possible human counterattacks to eavesdropping on human civilian broadcasts.

The term "Shipgirl" started appearing 5 years ago on human comms, and soon after they were seen in combat. Finally the humans had a weapon that could take them on on even terms. No one she knew had the slightest idea how the humans had come up with these beings.

She sat in meditation. A piece of trivia floated up from the recesses of her mind. Humans considered her race to have been sent by higher beings to purge man of his sins, or that is what the civilian chatter said. None of this is true, however, according to her current knowledge.

But what was true are defeats suffered at the hands of these shipgirls. They appeared in time to repel landings on the British Isles, and with the relatively recent destruction of the birthing pools off Norway and Singapore the humans are actually regaining ground. As to how far they will go, she does not know, as those locations were merely peninsulas connected to larger unconquered landmasses. Surely the Pacific is a wide enough gap, or is it?

Her mind continued to wander as the sun slowly crept lower and lower on the horizon. Her own air group was scrambled to intercept a reconnaissance flight a few days ago, without success. The incursion was just one of many over the last few weeks. The humans were up to something, something big. Thoughts danced in her head. What are shipgirls? Where did they come from? And why do they seem so like herself. Was there a third sentient race on this planet that allied themselves with the humans? Were they created by the humans from studying captured specimens? Or is there something supernatural about them?

She stopped the train of thought right there. God. Deities. Higher beings. She was thinking like the humans, like the enemy, like the barbarians that spat on a perfectly reasonable request for peace and quarter. How alike are they, and can there really be peace between the two races? She hoped honestly that she would still be alive to see that day. But for now she was content with pondering these questions in this brief moment of respite, watching the sun slowly dip into the ocean on this idyllic beach, knowing that war is always just beyond the distant horizon.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Unsinkable?

Yukikaze 'the unsinkable' was a veteran of the base. She was among the founding 6 and the only member of which still stationed on the base. She was always in the vanguard of the fleet during critical operations, and always the one credited with landing the killing blow. But there was always a catch – she would be the only one to get away unscathed. The others invariably came back limping, some barely even at all. And that weighed on her. Granted, the missions she went on were the hardest, but there it was almost as if an invisible hand shielded her from damage, or rather, and invisible hand pushed someone else in to take the damage meant for her.

Her first admiral had a mental breakdown when Nachi arrived in base close to death, flesh barely clinging to the bone in some places. His replacement barely lasted 6 months, being found dead in his office, on his desk an erroneous report that a heavily-damaged Sendai had sunk on the return route to base, the room reeking of paint thinner. The third snapped and tried to assault her when one of his precious carriers took a submarine torpedo that was aimed at her during a supply run.

Luckily there hadn't been an incident with the current admiral

Yet.

The pre-operation chills were back. She wanted to be able to fight, but she also wanted to protect her comrades – her friends.

What good is fighting for your friends when you can't stop them from getting hurt. What good is protecting them when YOU are the reason they are hurt.

She sank further back into her chair. Her belly was full from dinner, but there was only emptiness in her heart. This feeling conflicted her. To fight is to endanger those she loves, but not to fight puts them all at risk. Again, she wonders, why was her second life a parallel of her first, one doomed to see those who love fall around her while she stands helplessly, watching, trying to grab them as they fall only to see them slip through her fingers.

Her mind wanders further, back to the mission briefing a few months ago. Maps, plans, supply lines, pre-deployment, order of battle, follow up landings from conventional forces…

Wait, shit…

Order of battle…

She knew it off the top of her head, because it was a mirror of her past. And one name stood out among all listed.

Haruna.

Shit…

Yukikaze snapped back up straight in her chair. It was an open secret Haruna was his favourite. The word from the rumour mill was that they were planning to get married when the war ended, if the war ended. Losing her would mean losing him, and the base really likes having him around.

She prayed a silent prayer, thanking whatever power had been protecting her until now, and begged it to help others instead. She decided she had had a good run, and the chance for life should go to someone more deserving, maybe to the Fuso sisters who still avoid her to this day, or maybe to the fairy aviators who will be covering the fleet as it approached the gulf.

"Yukikaze will not sink – let's test that, shall we?", she muttered with a sly grin as she felt the weight of her supposed sins getting lifted off her heart. It was blatantly clear to Yukikaze what she had to do. Only one of them could come back alive, for the sake of the admiral, for the sake of those she holds dear.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The heart of the matter

I sat on the floor of my office, straightening up the paperwork that was once again scattered across the room. This time however, the papers weren't just lightly crumpled. Some had…fluids…on them, and most of them had creases that were impossible to flatten out. I made a mental note to have the soiled ones photostatted and try to pass the copies off as the originals in the next audit. I paused as something was being draped over my shoulders.

"Thanks for getting a new shirt, love. I could have gotten it myself though," I turned my head to let our eyes meet, and she reciprocated with the same soft smile that had me smitten hook, line, and sinker way back then.

"That's the least Haruna could do, after she tore your off shirt earlier," she responded, "and besides, is this not how lovers work with each other?"

"Well, if these papers are anything to go by when we work together things just get more messed up."

"Yeah, but at least we had fun messing up," her smile widening into a smirk. I chuckled and stood up to set the arranged papers onto my desk and don my shirt correctly. As I was doing up my collar buttons Haruna grabbed me by my wrists and pulled herself in close. Again, our lips locked, and we stood there, enjoying the moment.

In the end, Haruna was the one to pull back first. With a soft, teasing tone, she asked, "Well, since Haruna got your shirt for you, among…other…things," that statement being accompanied by a sultry stroking of my lips, "can Haruna share what she learned today with Akagi-san and Kaga-san? You know they have been…thirsty…for information of this sort for a long time," again emphasizing her desire with what she knew would excite mine.

"Well, you certainly learned more than one thing today, and I am okay with them being privy to the first, but as for the second, well, that stays between the two of us for now," I respond with a widening lecherous smirk. "Also, I didn't realize how long we have been at it. I think we should hurry up and get to the cafeteria for dinner before they stop serving. I heard today's dinner makes breakfast look bad."

I finished straightening up my uniform just as Haruna finished her text message. She took me by the arm as we left the office and began on a leisurely stroll to the cafeteria. On the way we met the Nishimura 7, of which the Fuso sisters were in unexpectedly high spirits, as well as some of our guests from other bases who were going to push off with the fleet the next morning. Kongo was especially ecstatic that her baby sister found her own "burning love", while Nagato gave some sagely love advice supposedly originating from small-talk Yamamoto Isoroku engaged in while on her bridge.

Indeed the only person who greeted us at the cafeteria entrance was Hosho, and in her usual motherly demeanor she greeted us with warmth. I was about to apologize for our tardiness when she cut me off.

"Kaga told me to expect you two late, but that's a good thing because I was able to prepare something special for the two of you. Come, follow me."

We entered the cafeteria to find the lights dimmed and the tables mostly cleared out, leaving one alone in the center, with candles lit and a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket.

"Haruna, w…w…what did you tell the First Carrier Division?" I stammered out, trying to take in the transformation the cafeteria went through, and the lengths Hosho went to to give us the perfect evening.

"Haruna told Kaga all that was necessary. Kaga's imagination filled up the rest."

"Well then, I think we need to do something about the rumours after all. But first, I think I will have to formally invite you to have dinner with me," I regained my cool with a wink. Haruna blushed as she followed me to the table. I sat her down before I took my seat and waited for dinner to be served while loosing myself gazing into Haruna's hazel-brown eyes.

I learnt later that dinner that night was originally a buffet, but through means only mother Hosho knew she was able to prepare us our favourite dishes tuned to our preferences. I got a sashimi platter with extra salmon belly, and Haruna got cold cha-soba with assorted tempura. She offered to open the champagne but we declined for we both needed to keep a level head for the operation tomorrow. We suspected Hosho knew we would refuse, but still went through the trouble of finding this particularly special pre-war vintage to present us with the image of perfection.

Savouring a meal with a beautiful girl was definitely not in the navy recruitment advertisement, and the relative opulence was reminiscent of those days of peace, or at least as shown in movies from that era. A part of me wondered if we were indeed at war. I must have entered a state of deep thought, because is was Haruna who broke the silence.

"Admiral, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. It just occurred to me how surreal this is. We are at war, with you heading off to the front tomorrow and me following behind on the command ship. Thousands of refugees are still homeless from the invasions and yet we still enjoy this decadence. It just does not feel…"

Haruna broke off my ramble with a gentle stroke of my cheek. I brought my hand to hers, letting her silky-smooth fingers soothe my concerns.

"Haruna believes there will always be war. Back in Haruna's previous life, she has had sailors live on her, serve on her, and die on her. They always carried regret in their hearts as they drew their final breaths, and Haruna felt their pain. The pain of leaving behind families, wives, girlfriends, fiancées," she put emphasis on that word in particular, "without saying a proper goodbye, without saying "take care, I love you" before they parted." A pregnant pause followed as she collected her thoughts. "So Haruna thinks, we can have this evening for ourselves. We have given so much to this world, so why can't we take some back for ourselves. Haruna thought you in particular understood this, with the care and love you have shown us, especially Haruna, so please, for Haruna, be more honest with yourself."

She was right. Haruna reminded me once again why I fell for her. I was born in a military family, where "duty, honour, country" were the morals I grew up with. Always thinking for others, never for oneself. My appointment to this base allowed me to take a step back from the bigger picture to see how all of us were individuals with our own needs and desires, and it was Haruna in particular who showed me that I am myself an individual who also deserves the same comforts as others. She showed me how to love myself, as much as I suspect I did the same for her.

We finished our dinner in peace and left the cafeteria after thanking Hosho. I brought Haruna back to her room in the shipgirl bunks.

"Take care of yourself darling," I said, my right hand bringing up a lock of her hair for a sniff.

"And don't worry about Haruna too much my love. Don't forget about the others too. We will be together again soon." was Haruna's response.

"Indeed, no matter which world we are in, we will live for each other," came my soft answer as we drew each other in for a final embrace. It became clear to us, as we held back our tears, that not even death will do us part.

-0-

Haruna lay in bed in deep thought, thinking about war and a peace often teased, but in reality, far away. Her hands unconsciously moved to her belly. She had known barely a week ago, but chose not to say a word for fear of jeopardizing the operation.

"We both have to be more honest with ourselves," she muttered with a slight chuckle. To her knowledge this has never been done before, a union of man and machine, a fusion of sea and shore.

In her head danced thoughts of a future, a future of peace, where shipgirls would lead normal lives, where they would play a part in rebuilding, where they would keep the peace. Haruna wanted none of that. She wanted to live with her darling on their own terms. Both have sacrificed so much; and both deserved as much in the new world.

As she drifted off to sleep, a final thought entered her head. The peace from which she and her Admiral will carve their own reality from must be attained in 8 months.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Lost daughters

9 p.m. It is late to still be working in the cafeteria, but Hosho needed to finish cleaning up after the last diners. Her fairies were already helping her move the tables back while she sat down to take a break and eat some curry she had set aside for herself.

It was a while since Hosho was part of a battlefleet. She was one of the first to be reborn, and like her historical counterpart the first aircraft carrier of the shipgirl corps. She was instrumental in the formation of the carrier doctrine, and from her came the most skilled fairy aces of the fleet. However with the arrival of the fleet carriers she was soon relegated to the screening forces, and as the ranks of light carriers swelled her combat sorties became fewer and further between.

Yet she made it a point to awake with the main strike force and be at the docks every time they sortied. She always prayed for their safe return, and until now her prayers have always been answered.

As she ate she thought about the upcoming operation. She was privy to the reason behind OrdBat decisions, being the motherly figure of the base and most of the shipgirl corps. Thinking about it always unsettled her. "The historical route", so to speak. The mirror of the terrible war that saw her carrier daughters and aircrew sons perish fruitlessly while she sat in harbour. The same war in which she lived to see the bitter end, her final act being the repatriation of POWs before facing an unceremonious end at the scrappers.

Why couldn't she go down honourably, she wondered. Why would she have to suffer seeing her daughters cast off, not knowing if they will return. She felt the knot in her gut tightening, at the same time trying to swallow the food in her mouth, finding herself unable to.

It was easier to cope with the despair in the beginning. But after her role as a training vessel was fulfilled she got assigned to this forward base, the same one the First Carrier Division was manning. The nightmares began. She found herself jolting awake in the middle of the night, shouting the names of Akagi and Kaga, tears streaming down her face.

But she kept it to herself, for the first few months at least. When the current admiral arrived and brought an open-door policy with him she finally had the chance to open up. He listened and understood where she was coming from, and suggested she find an outlet for her feelings. Something that would stop her dwelling on negative feelings by giving something else to focus on.

She decided to cook for the fleet, to welcome the battlefleet home with a hearty meal. It was therapeutic for her. A distraction during the day and the hope that the meal would not go uneaten. And on top of that the morale at the base improved markedly, and with it performance in battle. High Command was forced to look the other way when the admiral asked for more budget for upgrades to living facilities, food, and other small comforts. And similar practices were started in other bases, going so much as to bring back non-combatants like Mamiya and Irako to prepare the food there.

In a way, Hosho started something. She knew she should feel proud, and yet, there was always that emptiness. The war was still grinding on, her daughters were still sailing out, they were still getting hurt. With every victory High Command would address the fleet, announcing the end was near but in reality peace seemed further and further away.

Again the order of battle thrust its way into her consciousness. Why Leyte? Why the engagement that had the bulk of the remaining fleet sail off and return a shell of its former self, without anything to show? Maybe this was how the wheels of fate turned. Warships of decades past brought back to be absolved from sin; the purging of the Abyssal scourge mirroring historical engagements; the enemy they face taking up corrupted forms of themselves.

She felt something warm on her cheek. She put the bowl down – her appetite was gone anyway. She wanted to be on the front, not for the thrill of the fight, not to be the one to protect her daughters (she knew she would be hopelessly outclassed in any case), but to live up to her status of a warship, and should it be the case, to claim her place in Valhalla with her friends and family, something her former self was unable to do.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Songs of the Iron war

In the lead-up to the operation at Leyte some navy songs were drifting around the base. Most were from the days of iron-hulled warships of Imperial Japan, but some others were new "seasonals" that popped up preceding the operations. Most were rehashed versions of pre-war pop songs, some were new inventions cooked up by the fairy crewmen or the girls themselves, and some were repurposed songs from various time periods. This time one particular ballad based on an old German paratrooper march was making its rounds, the lyrics to which were as follows:

"At Leyte in lightning and thunder,

There sailed a lonely shipgirl on patrol.

Her thoughts, they dwell on her homeland,

Her friends, her comrades, and her admiral.

The stars are shining deep in the midnight sky,

 _In midnight sky._

Send home her greetings,

Send home her words of love to the girls when she dies.

The stars are shining deep in the midnight sky,

 _In midnight sky._

Send home her greetings,

Send home her words of love to the girls when she dies.

On storming an enemy fortress,

She took an 8-inch shell straight through her heart.

She crumpled into the still water,

And looked up to the stars all turning dark.

The stars are shining…

With voice weakening she muttered,

Come closer, friend, and take me by the hand.

And say to the admiral my farewells,

And send him back my precious wedding band.

The stars are shining…

On Leyte the banners are waving,

The fleet now sails on in victory.

And to our comrades who've fallen,

Your sacrifice now consecrates the sea.

The stars are shining…"

When questioned on it some of the girls admitted to have been humming the wordless melody for months, although the lyrics only became widespread on the base a week ago after a heartfelt performance on talent night by Asagumo and Yamagumo, with Michishio playing the accompaniment on piano. The guests from the north arrived that day, and to say the least they were surprised the Admiral let that slide. Eventually they warmed up to it. Death was a common theme in such pieces, but something about this one was different. The melody resonated in their hearts – it spoke to all of them on a personal level.

When asked on his opinion the song shortly after the Admiral said only this: "if you listen to the marches from their war you will find that all of them treat death as something to be welcomed with open arms. It an inevitability to be sought out willingly. However in this one the shipgirl dies carrying regret with her. Her final feelings are never conveyed directly to those she loves; she looked forward to a life after the war with her Admiral; she did not even have the honour of dying painlessly. If the song gives them the hope that if they die, they will never die alone and that they will be remembered, then so be it. I'm personally okay with the song, and they ran it by me and everyone in the office beforehand."

"Haruna was there that day, so was Shigure," Haruna chimed in, "Haruna did feel conflicted about the lyrics, but they told a most beautiful story that touched all of our hearts. Their voices were absolutely beautiful. We were all moved to tears, in fact thinking of their performance makes Haruna want to cry," she said as she pulled the Admiral's hand in closer.

And so the song continued to be sung on base, with the only condition being to not sing it over the radio, lest the operation be compromised should comms be tapped. And so it continued to be sung, up to this restless night, the eve of battle.

Kongo was tossing and turning in her unfamiliar bed so far from her own admiral. She was confident they would soon be together again, after all, she would always be his burning love, yet the song was still buzzing in her head, jarring yet somewhat comforting at the same time..

Ashigara turned off her room lights at the northern base. She missed Captain Yonehara, the supply officer back home who stole her heart. Yamagumo and Asagumo approached her asking for help with the song lyrics a few days before her temporary deployment here began – the last stanza was her creation after all. She hummed out the chorus, reflecting on it, and hoping she would never have to be the one to convey a dying girl's last words back home.

Ooyodo just hung up a call from someone special. Her heart longed for the day she would be reunited with her love. Of the girls ordered to the north for the operation she resented the deployment the most. As far as she knew she was the only shipgirl who had relations with a non-military man, and as such was jealous of the fact she had to be miserly with her leave allowance just to be able to see him. The Admiral was understanding of this and allowed her as many nights off as operations allowed, but that meant jack when she was deployed north. To receive a single phone call from him over a civilian network, especially at this stage of the war when communication blackouts were common was a godsend, and some part of her wonders if the Admiral had a hand in this.

Haruna was already in deep sleep, but in her dreams danced shell splashes and puffs of shrapnel, explosions thundered around her, all the while the seas were crossed with torpedo wakes illuminated by the moon. She was in combat, weaving between the incoming fish while returning fire. Then there was someone, someone small – destroyer. She stood still, unmoving, while tracers screamed towards her. Haruna dashed over to her and grabbed her, but she would not budge, no, she could not budge. Both stood rooted to the water. Haruna turned her head to determine the identity of the mystery girl, but she was no longer there. And so Haruna stood alone, anchored to her spot, as the shell splashes got ever closer…

And all the while one could almost hear the chorus still echoing over the base on this solemn night.

AN: To search for the link of me playing the melody, the search term AOTG 11 should suffice, or if it doesn't work search "Auf Kreta Piano" to get to hear someone else play it, or PM me for the link.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Through all, in spite of all

I was not heading to my regular quarters. The fleet sorties at dawn, and it would make more sense to spend the night on the command ship rather than wake up even earlier to then make my way to the ship. I have been moving my necessities on board over the past few days, so I probably had enough clothes and supplies to last the 2 weeks the Shipgirl arm was expected to remain on station for.

Barring a large-scale counter offensive, of course, in which the Northern Force would need the help of the battlewagons, which in that case I would burn through the uniforms I have, but at the same time the fleet would also run out of fuel so I guess dirty clothes would be the least of my concerns.

I entered my quarters, a 5 by 8-foot room with a bed that doubles as a bench for a desk bolted to the wall, complete with a locker at the foot of the bed. It reminds me of the days back in the academy, except there was no desk and it was a bunk bed. Yes, indeed, after being enrolled in the academy at 12, I, after another 12 years, am finally living the high life of not having to share a room.

On the desk was a framed polaroid from the first Christmas party we threw about 2 years ago. I was a reindeer with a round red nose, carrying a Haruna-Santa on my back. Funny, considering the year before I was almost expelled from the academy. It was not due to disciplinary issues — quite the opposite in fact. I was always shut-in, moreso since the war began with my dad going down on the bridge of USS Theodore Roosevelt in the defense of Hawaii, and the death of my mom, a communications officer, in Fortress Palau a year later. It was only due to one of the geezer's promises to my late parents that I was kept around as long as I was.

I was told I would make a master strategist, if my exemplary scores were anything to go by, but to get there I would need several decades of command, which I would never be suited for.

In a way, the Shipgirl Programme saved me. It became clear early on that a normal person plagued with...temptation...cannot be trusted with such assets, so High Command had to call on the socially inept to staff the Admiralty. And I was one of the weirdos chosen.

I was sent between a few second echelon supply bases over the next few months to get up to speed. I learnt quickly that normal military discipline does not and cannot apply to Shipgirls. Talking to some of them felt like interacting with a younger sibling or with a close female friend, or at least what I'd imagine it'd feel like seeing I had neither. I eventually chose a rather hands-off approach to daily operations, trusting that the girls would manage themselves, rewarding accordingly, and only intervening when absolutely necessary. Something tells me I was on the right track when I was ordered to take command of a front-line base, effectively immediately. Within 3 hours I was practically being manhandled onto a plane, a small pre-war private jet with most of its interior stripped out and replaced with extra fuel storage to allow for the 8 hour flight to the East Indies.

The door was closing as I was strapping myself into one of the jump seats at the end of the cabin when I heard a commotion coming from outside. The door opened briefly and in was shoved a young lady of about my height with long silver-gray hair and chocolate-brown eyes. Her non-traditional Miko outfit was less gaudy than other things I've seen shipgirls wear, but still gave her away as one, although I have never seen her before at the bases I've been on so far. She looked back at the door, flustered, but quickly noticed me observing her. Giving a curt bow, she sat at the seat closest to the door and strapped herself in as a few extra crates were being loaded on.

Just before takeoff, I shouted over the din of the engines: "Hello there, you can call me Johannes."

"Fast battleship, Haruna, reporting for duty. You're the admiral, correct? I'm looking forward to working with you." Was the shy response.

I guess I somehow broke the ice, because when the plane took off we were on opposite sides of the cabin, but she was asleep with her head resting on my shoulder when we landed 8 hours later. The rest, one can say, is history.

My attention then went to another piece of history; a Type 38 Rifle in the open locker. It was of interwar vintage, supposedly having been part Haruna's on board armoury (although she was never able to confirm or deny) and still chambered in the original 6.5mm Arisaka. I was the one who raised the Abyssals' weakness to historical formations to High Command, and coupled with rumours that USS Missouri was able to take out more Abyssals with her guns than modern missiles did before Hawaii fell, it was safe to assume that actual equipment used in the war was at least as effective as its modern counterparts. But for High Command to take it as far as they did and actually issue human personnel small arms older than our great-grandparents was really grasping at straws. Then again if the command ship came under attack I had something to take potshots with, or at least had a useful club.

It's amazing how far the fleet has come. I was posted to a base in disarray after an episode involving the previous Admiral, Yukikaze, and an aircraft ferrying run. There was barely any fuel, and the ledgers, or what was left of them, showed all the bauxite was used on the failure that was the Reppuu Kai project. Morale was in the dirt and the fleet composition was wonky, to say the least.

"What kind of retard would ask for all available aircraft carriers, and what kind of moron at high command would actually send him the first and second carrier divisions, as well as all the Unryuus?" I subconsciously asked myself. Being based in the East Indies allowed us to use the air groups stationed in Indochina and the few human-controlled bastions in the Indonesian Islands, and having a full seven fleet carriers here was a waste. The carriers drew lots to see who was to be reassigned. Akagi and Kaga stayed. Back then it was the short straw they drew, but seeing how much has changed since then, I think they are happy they had to stay.

Over time more girls were assigned to the base, some of whom I had the pleasure (or misfortune) to work with in previous posts, while others were reassigned to other districts, but most still came back occasionally for temporary deployments or supply escort runs, and it was heartwarming to see them catch up with old friends. I almost felt bad for pragmatically splitting up the carriers that were stationed here when I arrived. Ironic, it is, that I learnt humanity from beings that weren't even human.

As time went on operations in the East Indies intensified. The base went from a backwater patrol outpost (that for some reason had 40% of its strength comprising of fleet carriers) to a staging ground that housed the guardians of the East Indies. After the recapture of the last stronghold in Singapore all of South-East Asia west of the Wallace line was liberated. The fleet was ecstatic; High Command took note of the success and directly asked me for a report and combat analysis with particular emphasis on its impact on future planning, and then proceeded to ignore my suggestions, which led to this current operation.

I reflected on the past week; on the performance put up by Asagumo and Yamagumo; on Shigure's question; on Akagi's outburst; on Michishio's breakdown; on the afternoon in the office and the dinner date.

What are Shipgirls? Tactical doctrine treats them as naval units indistinguishable from steel-hulled vessels. The girls themselves identify as the actual warship of the name and era, with their memories of their operational histories and crew to boot. Yet that can't be it. If that were the case the cafeteria toaster that caught fire last week would be able to tell us which idiot tried to stuff in an entire sandwich if we ever chose to 'bring it back'. But would I want to talk to an anthropomorphic toaster if it is, in the end, just a toaster?

From the abyss of my subconscious came a verse from 'In Flanders Fields'.

"We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved and were loved, and now we lie."

Is that what it means to be human? To live, feel, sense? To love and to receive love?

Indeed. I guess if the toaster could experience the depth and breadth of human emotions and invoke the same emotions in others, then, it, following this line of reason, is a human. But then what would that make me before I was posted to the Shipgirl Branch of the navy? A walking toaster?

Looking back, there are many things I have done in my life that I regret. However, there are even more things I regret not doing. Maybe I should have hung out with the other cadets more. Maybe I should have joined them in their crazy stunts and acts of bravado. Maybe I should have lived for myself and not lived in the shadow of my parents, the Martyr of the Third Fleet and the Voice of Palau. But then again, I guess it is this chain of decisions that make up who I am as a person, the tapestry of my life choices being made up of the patchwork of my experiences, and if these experiences and decisions that led me to where I am now, I do not regret a darn thing.

My only regret for today however was being unable to address the fleet a final time. It was supposed to be an informal speech to everyone in the cafeteria, but because of what happened in the office I missed my chance. I did not have anything to say in particular, but I felt it was only polite to wish them well and calm their nerves, or at least try to. I shrugged and made a mental note to check if the ship was connected to the base public address system. Radio was out of the question for the sake of communications security, of course.

It is amazing how much time I can spend in my thoughts. Subconsciously I had done all of my needed pre-sleep maintenance and was now lying in bed, with the only thing left being to doze off.

It is surreal. Since I was a cadet I wondered what it would be like to have a room to myself. And yet now that I am getting my own quarters on the base and on the command ship, I feel unsatisfied, almost lonely. My eyelids are getting heavy as I reach out to the framed photo on my desk, feeling a final sense of warmth as I run my fingers over the girl in the red Santa dress.

 **AN: Happy belated IRL birthday to me (May 8), Happy belated 2nd Anniversary to Haruna (May 7), and Happy level 175-reaching to Haruna (May 9)**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Old endings, new beginnings

"This is Yamashiro, reaching point Mike in the Sulu Sea. We've been shadowed by aircraft the last 2 hours but they do not seem to be pressing attacks. Anti-aircraft formation adopted, will stay on high alert."

"Yukikaze reporting two submarines contacted off Palawan, both sunk, no casualties on our side."

"Yamashiro, this is Nachi, we've spotted more planes at point Victor, stay sharp, we should be able to rendezvous at the appointed time."

I sat in the communications center of the command ship, listening to the incoming transmissions from the south and center forces. The northern diversionary force was sadly out of radio range, but from relayed messages it seems they have successfully lured the bulk of the abyssals on a wild goose chase.

"Admiral Johannes, Nagato reporting fleet position at point Uniform in the Sibuyan Sea, currently under light air attack, CAP holding them off, thank the 1CarDiv for us."

I opened a porthole to wave to Akagi and Kaga, both sailing abreast of the command ship. Akagi smiled and flashed the thumbs up, while Kaga gave a stoic nod. Yes, it seemed they received that transmission as well. The command ship and its escorts were instructed to maintain radio silence, however, to not reveal its position. And yet, there are times when I'm listening to the chatter when I feel like sending them words of encouragement, cheering them on, commending them for their bravery in facing the spectre of their combined pasts. And yet the only thing I can send them are my prayers.

Status reports from the designated squadron flagships trickled in throughout the day, with occasional input from the other fleet members if they had anything worth noting. All seemed to be going well, with not even one of the girls damaged in the slightest. Subconsciously I was listening in intently, hoping to hear the voice of one specific girl, saying that she is alright, but that never happened the whole afternoon. I guess what is commonly known need not be said.

Night soon came and the command ship entered the Sulu sea. The Nishimura fleet and the Shima fleets have long passed the area and have declared it safe. Reports from the human landing forces securing beachheads on Palawan and west Mindanao state that they are encountering minimal resistance, and that abyssal presence is was restricted to within 10 kilometers of any body of running water. Even then only basic destroyer-class units were encountered, which could be handled by basic anti-tank munitions. Everything was going as expected. The Kurita fleet last reported their position in the Sibuyan sea and should be currently making a dash through the San Bernardino strait. Meanwhile I was still manning the radios, awaiting the reports from the fleets in the Surigao strait.

Indeed, in less than 5 minutes the chatter picked up.

"Yamashiro. Fast contacts on radar, likely PT-imps, preparing for evasive maneuvers."

"Ashigara taking point."

"Watch your back Michi."

"I got this!"

"They're pulling back. Radar is detecting multiple contacts at the end of the strait. Fleet, enter battle formation, carve victory into the dawn horizon."

5 minutes of silence. Then Fuso's voice crackled over the radio.

"2BatDiv will break through! Fire!"

I can only imagine the chaos unfolding. Night battles in history were never glorious. It was a fight for survival, where skill and luck were on equal footing. And for the girls, for the Nishimura fleet especially, it is where they face their demons again.

"Michi here, reporting radar signatures of multiple princess-class battleships. I know you're listening, Admiral. Having second thoughts on not giving me my Kai Ni?"

Ah, so she is still bitter about that.

Fire commands from the designated flagships (Yamashiro and Nachi respectively) were being shouted through the channel, followed by the thunder of the guns and the splashes of near misses. Even as far away as the Sulu sea one could feel the intensity of the battle. I took note of the incoming messages on a piece of paper, trying to figure out who was shooting what, and to estimate the number of abyssals that were standing watch over the strait.

"Yamagumo. Picking up signature of a Princess-class battleship. Shining searchlights in that direction."

"Oh god, she looks like…"

Asagumo was cut off right there.

"MOVE BITCH, GET OUTTA THE WAY!"

I guess I learnt that night Yamashiro had a war cry.

A minute of silence descended over the comms.

"I'm so glad... Admiral, there really is... no rain that doesn't stop... right? Thank... you!" Shigure's angelic voice crackled from the radio.

The southern force made it. Seems there were no casualties as well. I heave a sigh of relief as I slump forwards against the table, letting my head rest in my crossed arms. At daybreak the center force is expected to reach Samar and a rendezvous at Leyte Gulf should happen by late afternoon.

-0-

I pour some creamer into my tea and put in more sugar than normal. I need to perk myself up somehow. I hold the handle in my left hand, stirring with my right as I walk back to the communications center. It seems in the time it took for me to make a drink and walk back, the center force encountered a small surface force. I take a big gulp from my cup as I settle down in front of the radio set. Again, I listen intently, paying particular attention to a specific voice, anything to affirm what my feelings told me.

It seemes to be a generic surface fleet with a few battleship-class and light carrier-class abyssals mixed in. So it was true that the northern force did draw away and destroy the fleet carriers. I'm listening to the flagship's fire orders and all seemed well.

"This is Tone. Fleet be advised, scouts report a heavy reinforcement fleet approaching Samar from due east. Presence of a Princess-class carrier confirmed."

"Nagato. Copy. All units, finish off what you can for now, I want the battle lines formed in 5 minutes."

"Akagi, Kaga. Launching fighters now, ETA 30 minutes. Hold out."

I take another gulp of lukewarm tea. A princess-class being held in reserve was a first. Their tactics are evolving, but that is something that the planning arm would take care of later. For now, I pray that the scenarios covered in wargaming would pay off.

"Kumano. Aircraft spotted on air search radar. Launching fighters to intercept."

Air support from the 1CarDiv would still take 20 minutes to arrive. In the meantime they just had to survive. And soon radio chatter picked up again.

"SHIT, THEY AREN'T PULLING OUT OF THEIR DIVES!"

Suzuya's voice sends a chill down my spine. This really is 1944 all over again, but which side are we on now?

I stand up to take a look around the communications center. My crew are looking at me with determination in their eyes, almost anticipating what I was going to say next.

"Attention men, we are going to break radio silence. Tell the lookouts to be on high alert and telephone the bridge to prepare for evasive manoeuvres. Those buggers aren't easy to spot on human radars, but with them pounding at the fleet I doubt they would send any our way." My words are met with curt nods and the crew scrambled to action. I sit down an picked up a microphone.

"Fleet, stay in anti-aircraft formation and try to close the distance, even a princess-class won't have enough planes to send more than 1 more suicide wave. Engage with your guns, carve victory into the distant horizon."

"Yes, Admiral!" was the simultaneous response.

Fighter support arrived just as the second wave came. The fleet was already down a few ships, with Maya and Choukai having to fall back due to damage sustained, among other girls. Even with CAP a few bombers slipped through, and from the communications received it seemed Musashi and Kongo were out of the fight, so was the entire Takao-class. The outlook was bleak, with almost half of the capital ships taken out of the fight the chance of victory was slipping away.

"We see the enemy. Fleet, forwards! Battleship Yamato, opening fire with all guns. FIRE!"

The running gun battle had begun. The abyssal fleet had not changed course and were now in range of the shipgirls. The remaining heavy cruisers, led by Kumano and Suzuya, were engaging the abyssal escorts that were fighting like cornered dogs to defend their masters.

"Not this time, bitch," Kumano exclaimed. It seems she was dodging a torpedo from a plucky destroyer.

"Shit, there're too many of them," shouts Suzuya.

"Enemy fleet sighted! Prepare for the battle!", a familiar voice cut in. It is Yamashiro. The southern force has arrived at Leyte and crept up on the furball under radio silence. She was barking firing orders, while Nachi leading the charge.

Again, I am tracking fleet communications, sorting order from chaos. The bombardment from the 2BatDiv seemed to be effective, with the outer abyssal screen decimated. The fast destroyers of the 17DesDiv were tasked with making a torpedo run on the princess, supported by Yahagi and the remaining members of 2DesRon. It was a classic striking manoeuvre, one that needed great skill to pull off, and Yukikaze's team was the cream of the crop.

"Yukikaze approaching the inner screen. We have a launch solution but there're too many targets in the way."

"Noshiro. 2DesRon is tied up on this flank, you will have to abort."

"No, Yukikaze, stay on target, Haruna will clear a path."

Darling? My mind is racing. what is she doing? I bite my tongue, supressing my urge to call out for her on the channel. Yet my thumb is trembling on the mouthpiece's PTT button. I bite on my tounge harder. 'Duty, honour, country' is how I have led my life so far and is how I ought to be handling this, and yet, I feel this conflict inside me. I taste blood. It is a battle between my values and what I value.

I hesitate. I press the button.

"Do it, I believe in you darl…"

"KYAAAAAAAAAAA!" the sound of her scream and an explosion stop me mid-sentence.

"Yukikaze launching now!"

The rest just fades to a blur for me as I slump back into my chair and black out.

-0-

I wake up in the infirmary. I check my watch. It is 6p.m. on the same day. An orderly sees me pushing myself upright and comes to assist. She puts in my hands an AAR from Nagato.

"No need to fear. I was told by your second-in-command that there were no losses. None. Zero. All of the girls are safe. The support fleets arrived a few hours ago and patched up the most heavily damaged ones, and the screening force is in position."

That is a relief I guess. I skim through the document. It seems they managed to capture the princess, and is accompanied by a picture of the princess, bound and gagged, tied to a pole by the limbs with the pole carried over Nachi and Ashigara's shoulders, cartoon-style. I chuckle a bit.

"Miss, can you pass me my uniform?"

-0-

It is 7p.m. and all the girls who could stand were gathered on the main deck of the command ship. I eyeball the crowd. I see the Shimas chatting happily, the Nishimuras looking at each other surreally, wondering if what happened had indeed happened, and meanwhile the Kuritas just looked relieved. Out of the crowd I spot the girl with silver-grey hair and chocolate-brown eyes. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, but she swiftly drops her gaze.

Odd. But I guess we are all tired and stressed. I begin my address.

"Girls. I must thank each and every one of you for your efforts today. The fate of humanity rested in the outcome of that battle, and each of you have done your utmost. It is one thing to fight. It is another fighting your inner demons. And all of you have fought both brilliantly today. For the girls under my command, I have seen you rise from strength to strength, and I had never doubted in your abilities. To the girls under temporary assignment to me, you have done us all proud, and I will make sure to put in a good word with your respective commanders. Once again I thank you all on the behalf of all humanity, and without further ado, I wish you all a happy evening. Rest well, eat, and if all goes as plan our deployment here would end in 2 weeks."

The girls started streaming below deck, either to their bunks or to the mess. But one girl stood still, head handing low, hands crossed in front of her, almost like she was embarrassed. Soon it was just me and her left. I walk up to her.

"Darling, is there anything troubling you?" I ask, my right hand cradling her chin, lifting her head up to look into her eyes. It is then she slumps to the ground, sobbing.

"Darling, please, tell me what's wrong," my voice fills with concern as I kneel in front of her, taking her by her hands.

"Hansi, Haruna…Haruna…" she stutters, "Haruna is not fit to be your wife."

"W…W…What do you mean, darling?"

"Haruna lost your baby."

Those words hit me like a truck. She breaks down into tears. I immediately grab her shoulders to pull her into an embrace, letting her rest against my shoulder, like what I did in the office 2 days ago.

To think she knew all this time…

'Duty, honour, country' is how a shipgirl is to live.

And to think I my moment of indecision could have caused this…

'Duty, honour, country' is the dogma drummed into me.

My thoughts are a whirlwind. Why weren't we more honest with each other? Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't I stop her when I could?

What good is duty and honour to a country without vested interest or legacy?

My mind turns blank. I tighten the embrace as a feel something wet roll down my own cheek.

The sun is setting. The last orange rays peak out over the treeline. Over the smoldering carcasses of abyssals that washed ashore. Over the oily seas. Over Leyte gulf.


End file.
